


Letters

by justanothermaniac



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:34:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23333188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothermaniac/pseuds/justanothermaniac
Summary: He never forgot.
Relationships: Jeremiah Valeska/Jerome Valeska, Jeremiah Valeska/Lila Valeska (implied)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 81





	Letters

> * * *
> 
> _"Dear Jerome,_
> 
> _~~I'm sorry I couldn't~~ _
> 
> _~~I wanted to write~~ _
> 
> _~~I was scared that~~ _
> 
> _~~Please don't ha~~ _
> 
> _I'm sorry._
> 
> _\- Miah"_
> 
> * * *
> 
> _"Dear Jerome,_
> 
> _Sorry for that last letter. I didn't know what to say. I think I still don't. But it feels weird not writing letters. That's what you're supposed to do when you miss someone and can't talk to them. Write letters._
> 
> _I guess that's something I want to say. I miss you. But you don't believe me. That's okay._
> 
> _No, it's not OKAY but I get it. ~~I don't think I would believe me either~~_
> 
> _\- Miah"_
> 
> * * *
> 
> _"Dear Jerome,_
> 
> _I don't like my new bed. It doesn't creak when I move. ~~Our~~ At the circus, the bed used to creak all the time. It helped me fall asleep. ~~And I can't feel you next to me. I hate that.~~ There's so much empty space now. I don't think I'll get used to that._
> 
> ~~_I hope you're better_ ~~
> 
> ~~_I hope Lila and Zack don't_ ~~
> 
> ~~_I want to see you again when you're_ ~~
> 
> _Does ~~our~~ the bed still creak? _
> 
> _\- Miah"_
> 
> * * *
> 
> _"Dear Jerome,_
> 
> _I don't know if you're getting my letters. I think you are because Lila is getting hers and I don't send her as many. ~~Why aren't you answering?~~ I think I'll ask her if you're getting my letters ~~because I really miss you.~~_
> 
> _I know you hate me but can you ~~please~~ send one back?_
> 
> _It would be nice if you could send me a letter too. You don't have to but I'd like it._
> 
> _If you want me to stop sending letters just tell me and I will. ~~Just please write~~_
> 
> ~~_I love y_ ~~
> 
> ~~_I miss you_ ~~
> 
> _\- Miah"_
> 
> * * *
> 
> _"Dear Jerome,_
> 
> _it's been almost four years without a letter from you. I know that you burn them all without reading them but I asked Lila to tell you to please read this one._
> 
> _I know you don't believe me and you probably don't care. But I miss you._
> 
> ~~_You know why I had to leave_ ~~
> 
> _I'm sorry for leaving. I am, I swear. ~~Why do you think I keep sending you letters even though you've not answered once?~~_
> 
> _Some of the cuts were deep enough to scar, you know. Every time I look at them I have to think of you. How you smiled and giggled while cutting me. I can't get it out of my head, the sound of your giggle. Did you plan that? We were only kids but you're smart enough. ~~Vicious enough~~_
> 
> ~~_You're following me everywhere I go. I try to forget, I try to live this life as a new version, a better version of me. I can't. You won't let me._ ~~
> 
> ~~_I haven't loved anyone ever since I left. I can't love anyone ever since I left. You took that from me._ ~~
> 
> ~~_It's the cruelest thing you could do to a person. Making yourself the only thing that matters, making their world revolve around you, even after they've tried everything to break those invisible chains around their heart, chains that lock out every act of kindness they ever receive because they don't come from you._ ~~
> 
> ~~_You made sure that I'll never be able to escape from your grasp._ ~~
> 
> ~~_Why?_ ~~
> 
> ~~_Why did you do this to me? Why would you tie my existence to yours and then just pretend you forgot about me?_ ~~
> 
> * * *
> 
> _"Dear Jerome,_
> 
> _I'm sorry my last letter was all over the place. And probably very difficult to read. I had second thoughts about some of the things I said. It doesn't matter why. If you needed to know I wouldn't have crossed them out._
> 
> _I know you don't want to hear it. You've always called me a wuss whenever I said anything back then. B_ _ut you hurt me. And I know you were going to kill me one day. ~~That's why I had to lie to Lila~~_
> 
> _I was scared. Don't you understand? ~~Do you think I chose this?~~_
> 
> _I know you didn't choose this. No one would choose this._
> 
> _I wanted this letter to have more structure than the last one but I just don't know how to say anything I want to say. And the knowledge that you'll probably never even read this makes it so much harder for some reason. It should make everything easier. It should take away the fear._
> 
> _But leaving should've taken the fear away too. Look where it left me._
> 
> ~~_I still remember the person you used to be before everything went to hell_ ~~
> 
> _We were so close. I wanted that again. But you got worse every day. I couldn't take it._
> 
> _I haven't said it in the last four years because I felt like I didn't have the right to. But I don't care. It's true and I need you to know._
> 
> _I still love you._
> 
> _Please tell me you still love me too. I don't care if it's pathetic to ask that. I don't care if I don't have the right to ask that of you._
> 
> _Please, Jerome. At this point nothing else matters anymore. I know I'm the one who left. But I know why I did it and you know it too. Please don't punish me for not being strong enough._
> 
> _You're my brother. My twin. It means something. ~~It used to mean everything.~~_
> 
> _\- Miah"_
> 
> * * *
> 
> _"Mom,_
> 
> _Thank you, school is still going well. I hope things are working out in your favor too._
> 
> _I know you already told me that Jerome burns every single one of my letters but would you tell him to read the one I sent with this?_
> 
> _Please. It's really important to me._
> 
> _\- Jeremiah"_
> 
> * * *
> 
> _"Jerome,_
> 
> _Lila told me you said I should stop sending you letters. I respect that and I promise that I'll try._
> 
> _It's hard. We're turning fifteen in two months and it's still so hard._
> 
> _I'm sorry I left you._
> 
> _I'm sorry I wasn't able to help you._
> 
> _I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough._
> 
> _I'm sorry I made you hate me._
> 
> _It's taking forever to write this. There's so much I want to say but I still don't know how._
> 
> ~~_I love you so much._ ~~
> 
> ~~_You'll always be my other half. Please remember that._ ~~
> 
> _Actually, why even bother with crossing anything out? You're not going to read this anyway. Might as well be completely open here, huh?_
> 
> _I've been feeling empty for the past five years. I tried telling myself that I did the right thing. I still do. But nothing I have ever done felt so wrong._
> 
> _Leaving you was the biggest mistake I could ever have made._
> 
> _I miss you, Jerome. I_ _miss you every second of every day._
> 
> _I'm trying to live this new life with this new identity and name. I tried telling myself it's better, a better life, a better me but that was a lie. It's like an itch under my skin I can't scratch._
> 
> _Every waking moment is torture and the nights are reserved for nightmares about the things you'll do to me if you ever come to find me._
> 
> _The days are worse. At least I can see and feel and smell you in those nightmares._
> 
> _I'd endure everything, you know. Whatever you have in store for me. I just want to feel your skin under my fingertips again, even if it's just for a second, even if it's just to try and stop you from plunging a knife into my chest._
> 
> _I don't want to feel like this. It's sick. I'm sick. All those years I tried to convince myself that you're the sick one, the bad one, that you're rotten and I'm pure._
> 
> _It couldn't be further from the truth but you knew that, didn't you? You always knew. You tried to coax it out of me. You wanted me to be like you so you wouldn't feel so painfully alone. I get it now._
> 
> _I'm sorry I failed you._
> 
> _You're my other half and you always will be._
> 
> _I love you, Jerome._
> 
> _Please don't forget me._
> 
> _\- Miah"_
> 
> * * *

Jerome's fingers skim over the pages, trembling as he traces the delicately written letters. They started out sloppy, the pencil guided by the shaky grasp of a child's hand but they grew finer as the hand matured, pleasing to the eye if you ignore what they spell. What they mean.

Jerome doesn't realize that he's holding the pile of letters to his chest, his heart reaching out to them with every beat, yearning to grab them and pull them inside. There's dozens of them, stashed away securely in Lila's underwear drawer, a place she expected Jerome never to rummage through. The half empty pack of cigarettes Jerome was initially looking for is discarded on the sticky floor. How wrong Lila was. How wrong.

_He never forgot._

Jerome's eyes are stinging and it's foreign, eery even because Jerome stopped crying years ago. He replaced his tears with laughter, his pain with glee, his sadness with hysteria. Laughter became his elixir of life. There was no point in crying anymore.

"Miah", Jerome hears himself croak and it's like he's praying, something he's given up on long before he could even read or write because you need hope to be able to pray for anything and hope is a concept Jerome only knows in theory.

But this, this is real. These letters are real. These letters...

"Miah." Jerome is shaking, he's clutching the letters to his chest. He can almost smell him, the faint scent of strawberries that felt like home, Jerome remembers how he'd bury his nose in Jeremiah's hair and just smell him, let his scent warm him up from the inside out.

"Miah", he whispers again and with every time his baby brother's name slips from his lips it feels realer. He hasn't said it in years and as strange as it felt, now he can't _stop_. "Miah, Miah, _Miah."_

Miah never forgot him. Miah never stopped loving him. He wishes he'd known, he wishes he'd found them sooner, he wishes Lila had - 

Jerome's brain short-circuits.

Slowly, he pulls the pile of letters from his chest. His cheeks feel itchy from dried tears and as annoying as it would've been, Jerome doesn't care. He's not in the right mental state to care. His movement is mechanical, something that never happens, he's _never_ mechanical, he's impulsive and feral but he's looking for something, he rapidly skims over every letter, he's looking, he knows he's read something - 

_I know that you burn them all without reading them._

Jerome's heart stops beating for what feels like an endless frozen second. He blinks, something creeping through his bones and clawing its way out of every single inch of his flesh, like a billion tiny spiders.

Lila hid the letters.

Lila hid _his_ letters.

Jerome's stomach burns hot, he feels something bubble in his chest. But before it breaks out his gaze falls on something, something that looks like a package, poorly hidden under a cheap-looking red lace bra.

Jerome reaches for it and indeed, it's a package but there is a note glued to it and Jerome recognizes the handwriting even before he reads the words. 

> * * *
> 
> _"Happy 18th_
> 
> _Still miss you._
> 
> _\- Miah"_
> 
> * * *

The switchblade feels cold and smooth in Jerome's grasp. He traces the delicate engraving on the hilt, looped lines that end in cursive letters, _JV._

Jerome's cheeks hurt from the grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. He throws his head back, the switchblade grasped so tightly that his knuckles turn white as he laughs, hot tears stream down his temples and he laughs even louder, his chest bursting with something he can't place but he finds it doesn't matter, nothing matters anymore, not the scars on his chest and back, not the mold in his room, not the scattered beer cans and whiskey bottles.

All that matters are the letters in his lap and the switchblade in his hand.

The door falls open. Jerome's laughter dies.

His eyes are sharp as he turns his head, every single muscle in his body tense as he searches, and finds.

Lila is blinking slowly, clearly intoxicated, her sparkly green dress ripped at one shoulder. She finds Jerome on the floor and squints, opening her mouth to cuss or yell or hiss.

Her face goes white, the already pale skin glowing like snow under a patch of sunlight. Her gaze is fixated on the letters in his lap.

Jerome tilts his head, smiling softly while flicking the small lever of his ( _his_ ) switchblade, the satisfying click sending a shiver down his spine. "Momsie..."

Lila is gripping the door frame. Drops of sweat are glistening on her temple and Jerome is fairly certain it's not just because of whatever substances are running through her system.

He rises, the letters slipping from his lap and scattering on the floor. He'll collect them later. After this.

Every step towards her makes him feel lighter, his skin prickling with excitement. He's not holding the blade up but he doesn't have to because Lila is already shaking under his gaze, her purse held up in front of her chest like a shield, a desperate attempt to stop what has been coming for years. 

It's glorious. He's witnessing the snake shrinking into a worm. "Let's go for a walk..."

* * *

Jeremiah sets his pen down, squeezing his eyes shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The dim light of his desk lamp is starting to hurt his eyes. He blinks them open and turns his head to check the alarm clock on his bedside table. Almost midnight.

A yawn slips past his lips and he stretches, shivering a little. He always leaves his window wide open while studying. He tries to tell himself that it helps him sleep. It's an illusion but a welcome one.

Jeremiah rises from his chair and walks towards his window, reaching up to wrap his fingers around the handle and push it closed. He stops, however, when something catches his eye.

It's a tiny rock on his window pane and it throws Jeremiah off, because how would it get here? His room is on the third floor.

He instinctively reaches for the rock. He doesn't know why, what he's supposed to do with it, it's just a rock -

There is piece of paper under it. A note?

It might be from Ecco. She likes playing mysterious sometimes. Jeremiah pretends the tiny patch of warmth in his chest is fondness when in reality, it's just familiarity that built over time. After all, Ecco is the only person at school he spends time with.

Jeremiah reaches for the note, expecting a silly little phrase written in binary or something equally as nerdy. He folds it open.

Jeremiah's chest caves in. His fingers cramp, knuckles turning white from the tight grip on the note. It's barely even a note, it's a scrap of paper, probably ripped from a moldy book, stained with dirt and dried drops of something that can't be tears, couldn't be tears and now Jeremiah is adding to those stains, his eyes stinging, his stomach burning hot and he thinks his legs are giving out under him, a sharp pain shoots through both of his knees as they connect with the floor.

> * * *
> 
> _"She hid them from me._
> 
> _I'm coming for you, baby brother._
> 
> _\- J"_
> 
> * * *


End file.
